


All Is Quiet (On New Years Day)

by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miztrezboo/pseuds/badjujuboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Niall’s not drinking and Liam is. A NYE fic for <b>robpat</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	All Is Quiet (On New Years Day)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robpatFF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robpatFF/gifts).



> slightly AU in the way that this never happened and certain other THINGS are alluded to NYE angsty niall fic just for Morgan because she asked, owie old love feelings, kisses and silly boys
> 
> FEATURING: niall/liam (zayn/perrie, past and present depending how you look at it: louis/eleanor, louis/harry, harry/nick, harry/taylor, liam/danielle, niall/justin in mentionables)

Niall’s having a dry New Years.

Completely and utterly dry. Not one sip of anything alcoholic will pass his lips. 

It’s going to be hard, but after the absolute blinder he had at Christmas resulting in the worst vomiting he’s ever been privy too has made this decision for him. He knows it was bad because he’s _seen_ what happens when good booze goes wrong with enough of his friends and family to know what happened Boxing Day morning was not a good thing at all. So he’s going dry. Not a sip of champagne at midnight. Not one pint of Guinness will pass his lips. Not one shot of tequila or that drambuie stuff his older brother favors will come anywhere near his internal organs, thank you very much.

It’s good in a way. He’ll be completely sober and able to drive anyone home (slightly illegally without a license, but it's quiet so maybe no one will notice) if they need it. He’ll be able to take horribly incriminating photos as hostage for favors (not that he’ll ever need them - his mates are great but it’s nice to make them think he’ll be slightly devious). He’ll be awake and not halfway to some sort of disorderly when the countdown begins and he’s looking forward to it. Honest.

Niall is loving being at home. He’s been able to sleep in, he’s had his meals made for him and his washing done and so many ruffles of his hair he’s begun to wonder if that’s what it’s like for Harry every moment of every day. The hair thing, not the being looked after thing because if anyone is going to cook or clean for himself - it’s Harry. Anne instilled this work ethic into Harry - “there’s no such thing as ‘women’s work’ there’s just ‘work, boys” - and it’s usually between him and Liam who actually have clean clothes at the end of staying in one particular country or place. It’s always Harry that cooks for them when they finally _are_ at home. It’s probably why Louis loved living with Harry for so long. Probably why he get’s a funny sad look when Niall is sat in Louis’ kitchen and Eleanor goes to put a cup away and whine’s because Louis has “moved things again. Can’t you just keep them in the right spot?” The funny thing is - and he doesn’t think Eleanor has noticed - but it’s not exactly the wrong spot either. It might be the right spot for this house, but it’s not where a certain someone else kept the mugs in a home he made with Louis for near two years. But that’s something Niall doesn’t like to think about because they’re all not talking about _it_ and that’s fine. Mostly.

And it’s nice this. Being at home and with his mates and his mum and his extended family that just know him as Nialler and that kid that can sing. The people who rib him endlessly down at their local and give him shit for being too big a popstar to not buy the whole pub a round. He has a few times, and when he’s _really_ shit faced, Maureen ignores his loud request to make everyone’s drinks “on the house!” which is a good thing really. They _do_ know how to drink here. 

It’s great because he doesn’t have to worry about anyone, he can just be himself and not have to think about all the behind the scenes shite that’s going on in the band. He can just be. Niall’s pretty much got his phone turned off while he’s at home - it’s not like he needs to text anyone here. His mates are all within walking distance or there’s the land line and he knows the gist of what the others are in the band are up to and it’s nice to actually _unplug_ for a while. So it’s kind of a surprise on New Years Eve when there’s a knock at the door that he doesn’t look up from his FIFA game to answer, just calls out to his Mam that someone’s here and only pauses his game when he hears her shrieking.

“Jesus, Mam. What’s all t’noise for?” he says, scratching at his belly after having to pull up his shirt carefully where some of the bean’s he had on toast for breakfast has spilled and stuck. He winces as it lifts like a second layer to his skin and only then looks up when there’s a laugh that isn’t his mothers blending into the mix.

“Liam?”

“You are such a mess, Nialler,” he smiles and it crinkles his eyes so they’re near slits. Niall takes a moment to return the grin because he thought he knew what Liam was up to tonight and it didn’t involve a plane ride to the emerald isle.

“You gonna give us a hug?” Liam asks with a raised brow and Niall shakes himself before wrapping his arms around his mate and hugging him hard.

“Hi,” Liam whispers into the crook of Niall’s neck and it’s familiar - how they always greet each other after some time spent out of each other’s pockets and Niall just squeezes Liam harder before answering with a soft “Hi,” of his own. He pulls back after a few seconds have passed, his mam nattering on behind them to move in out of the hall so Liam can put his bag down and Niall realises that they’re still just in the doorway.

He laughs and Liam grins and he takes Liam up the stairs to his room - the spare is being used by one of Niall’s out of town cousins so they’re going to have to share. He says as much to Liam once they step into the room, Niall kicking an incredible amount of shoes and a few of his snapbacks out of the way to even get the door open wide enough for Liam and his bag to get through. Niall flushes a little - but not too much because Liam’s seen how messy Niall can be when they’ve shared a tour bus together - let alone Nialler’s own flat back in London. Niall thanks Uncle Simon’s forethought to hire them all cleaners way back when they first moved to the city together. He loves Nina and how everything is always lemony fresh when he gets in smelling like airplanes and feeling like he’s got a world of dust accumulated on his skin. 

“I’d apologise,” he starts, stripping off his dirty shirt and throwing on a new one that when he holds it to his nose isn’t all that ripe. He bounces on his unmade bed and hopes that the porn he was watching last night isn’t still up on his laptop screen. It’s not that he’s embarrassed - they’ve all watched something similar either in pairs or that one time in New York where they couldn’t leave the hotel without being mobbed and they had a sort of circle jerk, bottom halves hidden by soft throws and explicit images flashing in blues and pinks over their skin from the HD screen on the wall. But they never talk about that, made a pact not to which is fine by Niall. Even if he thought it was sort of lovely that they all came as a group. Well, not _together_ but it wasn’t as if they didn’t know what each other sounded like - the bus is _small_ and they’ve shared rooms often enough when they first started out.

So this won’t be weird for either of them, sharing a room and a bed.

“No mind, it was last minute anyway.” Liam says shoving at the stack of dirty clothes by Niall’s dresser to put his bag down. He plants himself on Nialler’s desk chair, glancing at his laptop screen with a small smile and swings around to face Niall. 

Niall chuckles and puts the lid down anyway - thanking his lucky stars that it was just on the main webpage and not the actual video because he’s not sure _everyone_ is into watching another bloke eat out another bloke’s arse as much as Niall is. Gay porn isn’t the _only_ porn he gets off on - he’s quite the equal opportunity porn connoisseur as he is with those he takes to bed in his real life. Boy or girl, or a mix of the two at the same time - Niall likes having a bit of fun and if sex is involved with a willing partner no matter what lies between their legs - well that’s that then. Niall’s not exactly sure where Liam stands on that in his own life - he’d been with Danielle forever and Liam wasn’t the only one shocked by their break up. But it’s over and done with and Liam’s been out on the town and pulled - Louis and Andy made sure of that - which is a strange combo at best because neither have time for each other, but loads for an incredibly sad Liam. Nobody likes sad Liam.

“So,” Niall starts and Liam grins bashfully, looking away from Niall and pointedly at where his fingers are rubbing over the scratch Niall put in the top of his desk with a butter knife when he was ten. He’d been trying to open up a tin of peaches to snack on and the tin opener had broke, leaving the smallest part still joined. Least to say he was lucky not to cut himself, just the desk instead. He never did get to eat those peaches, either.

“I guess you’re wondering why it’s last minute then?”

“Yeah, I mean, you don’t have to explain, Li. You’re always welcome, mi casa es su casa, or in this case, me mam’s is yours,” 

Liam blinks and his smile softens, “Thanks. It’s just. Everyone was busy and doing things and I wasn’t and it was kind of boring. Guess I missed you mate,” he says and Niall can hear what’s not being said behind it all.

Hears that Nicola has a new man that she was bringing home to meet the family. Hears that Ruth has this busy life with friends from Uni and as close as they are, he knows Liam still feels like he’s intruding - especially with how the paps or fans get a bit crazy following them all about when they’re at home. 

“Aww mate, I miss you too,” Niall says all saccharine sweet, opening his arms and patting the bed beside him. “Come give us a smooch,” 

Liam throws an old rubber ball from the desk at Niall’s head which he ducks, “Piss off. I just figured if anyone was going to be having a good time this New Years, it would be a bunch of drunken irishmen and well, you’re the only irish boy I know,” he stresses the boy bit and Niall rolls his eyes - Liam is only a few months older than himself and loves to rub it in. 

“A long way to come for a bit of entertainment,” Niall says, throwing it back - which Liam catches because he’s got good reflexes like that.

Liam shrugs, tossing the ball between his hands and not looking up at Niall, “Well, you’re Nialler aren’t you,” 

Niall nods and feels sadness creep into his veins, thickening his pulse because he can _see_ that look again on Liam’s face. The one after he told them that Dani and he were over. That she’d moved out and it was “amicable” and that’s all he wanted to say on the subject. The same look he got when she left him again after the MSG concert in New York and he came home without her hand in his. He knows this look because it’s been echoed on a few of their band mates faces recently. He’s caught Louis looking at Harry like that every time an interviewer asks about bloody Taylor instead of the new album. It’s nothing if not worse than when Harry would get a call or a text from Grimmy and light up like a bloody Christmas tree and Louis would slide down further into his seat or pinch someone’s nipple a bit harder. It’s the same look Harry has worn since Louis announced he was buying a house and that Eleanor was helping him pick one out. Or when Eleanor appeared at what felt like every stop they had in the US on the UAN tour or when Eleanor was anywhere Louis was. It was the same look he caught playing across his own face when Justin said he was spending New Years with Selena. Not that Niall expected Justin to come to him, but hearing the boy you’ve spent a bit of quality naked time with is going back to his ex girlfriend sort of hits you in all the right hurty spots.

Niall understands. He truly does. 

“I am, and Zayn’s about a plane and a car ride closer to you over there than I am,” he adds - even though he knows exactly why Liam hasn’t gone to him either.

Liam must know this too, because he lifts his eyes from where he’s still been watching his hands shift the ball from side to side and sort of stares at Niall without saying “Perrie and Zayn are like the exact opposite of what I need right now.” Loved up buggers that they are.

“Yeah, but I like you best, Nialler,” Liam says with an attempt at wiping the sad from his face, tossing the ball at Niall which he catches this time and Niall says nothing more. Instead they play catch up on all the events that have occurred since they all split up for the holidays. There’s family stories and bits of gossip about friends they have in common and the ball shifts as easily between the two of them as their conversation does.

They don’t mention how genuine Harry’s smile was at the birthday bash he threw for Louis earlier. They don’t mention how happy Louis looked either - Liam was there after all and the photo he texted Zayn and Niall said everything words couldn’t. They definitely avoid discussing how Harry’s gone and supposedly disappeared or how Louis holed himself up with Eleanor and his family at his new house. They fail to discuss how they both actually know where Harry is and it’s not with Taylor or with Grimmy either. Though he’ll be there to kiss Taylor on for the world to see come midnight. Sometimes Harry just needs time to _breathe_.

Niall might have checked twitter when he woke up and immediately remembered why he’d shut off his phone to stop worrying about the people he loved and their stupid fucked up choices when it came to matters of the heart.

They talk until his mam is calling up the stairs that she’s got a plate or two of sandwiches if they want it. Then it’s a mad rush and shove to get through the door frame because they’ve been chatting for hours. It’s a surprise really that Niall’s stomach hadn’t made the decision to leave his bedroom for them both earlier. The sun’s moved over the yard and it’s not snowing or raining but it’s still cold enough that Liam offers to start the fire in the grate and Niall cackles because that’s usually the _one_ thing his Mam will make him do when he’s home. Niall stretches out on the sofa, only shifting his legs when Liam pats them to sit, putting them back on his lap once he gets himself settled. They eat their sandwiches - a mix of meats and things from the leftovers they’re still eating from Christmas and watch whatever shite is on the tv because Niall can’t remember where he put the remote. 

It’s nice. It’s kind of lovely having Liam here and Niall never realised that he actually missed having someone around like Liam now is. Usually, as soon as they get their downtime, separating themselves from each other is the first thing that comes to mind. Different houses, different towns, different friends. They do love each other and truly are the greatest of mates but space is good for them. It just makes them closer when they do get back together again. But this though, having Liam rub a large warm hand over Niall’s ankle is nice. Niall’s fingertips brushing the soft fuzz of hair at the nape of Liam’s neck is nice too. When they eventually get a little tired and nap on opposite ends of the sofa, legs intertwined - that’s nice too. 

(They’re aparantly “so fecking adorable with smiles on your wee faces” that his dear Mam has to snap a quick shot with her camera. Niall gets a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach when his Mam shows him the next day. Liam actually blushes a bit.

Neither of them say anything but the look they share over her head when she goes back to finding the shot of his brother passed out and all dolled up with a princess tiara and make up on speaks volumes. )

They wake when the sun is already down and there’s noise in the street from cars and people arriving here and there for parties at various houses. Niall’s made plans to head into town to the local. Most of his mates migrate their anyway and a group of lads he went to school with are playing tonight and Niall loves nothing but a good sing-a-long. Even if he’s going to be sober.

“You’re kidding right?” Liam asks as he’s pulling his shirt on, his skin shiny and damp from the shower he’s just jumped out of. Niall doesn’t fail to notice how Liam still has those bloody perfect stomach muscles that Niall had been working on but have appeared to have faded now he’s been home for the holidays. Bastard.

“No,” Niall shakes his head, fiddling with a loose string on the cuff of his jumper. “I was a right mess mate after Christmas - not letting a hint of anything other than lemon soda touch these lips.” 

“Really?” Liam asks, patting cologne onto his face and neck and it fills the room with that familiar woodsy scent that Niall always associates with Liam. All earthy and warm and just like Liam. 

“Really,” Niall replies as he shifts off his bed, standing behind Liam at the mirror because the idiot’s got his collar stuck under the sweater he’s just thrown on. He can see Liam staring at him in the mirror, and he looks well - not so sad and that can only be a good thing, he even laughs when Niall pokes his tongue out at him because of it.

“You done fluffing around here boyo, because the birds won’t be easy picking the longer we leave it to get there.” Niall says, breaking away from what he shouldn’t be thinking of as a Moment with a capital because it’s not. It’s just mates taking care of each other and he’s not going to acknowledge how doing something as simple as fixing Liam’s collar makes his chest swell and his smile widen. It’s nothing. Really.

“Says he who hasn’t even put his shoes on, let alone fixed that rats nest he calls hair on his head,” Liam says, lifting a brow in Niall’s direction where he’s holding up two different high tops that are both white but one has a red stripe and the other has none. 

“Choosing the right footwear is essential Liam my boy, there has to be an equal ratio between comfort and looks. There will be dancing but there won’t be dancing with a special someone if the shoes aren’t right,”

Liam laughs and it’s the loud barking kind that makes his eyes crinkle and his dimple appear and Niall can’t help but join in - because laughing Liam is contagious. Liam finishes fixing his hair (or whatever it was he was doing in front of the mirror - because let’s face it, Liam’s got _no_ real hair to style) and heads to the door, stopping only to look back in, hands gripped on either side of the frame. 

“Who says it’s the birds I want to pull?” and with a cheeky wink in Niall’s direction - he’s whistling as he heads down the stairs.

Niall isn’t exactly sure what to make of that but he settles on the plain white shoes because they _are_ his favourites and sets about with the small pot of wax to get his hair right.

It’s times like these he wishes he had a pocket sized Lou Teasdale in his life.

They walk in the door to a loud cheer and everyone is already well on their way to being pissed. Niall does a few introductions, points out the girls he knows are single and are up for a good time without going to the press for it. Liam smiles all the while and kisses the girls cheeks and is his usual gentlemanly self. They get to the bar and Niall reminds Maureen of his oath to stay dry and she smiles and asks if Liam is doing the same.

Liam frowns for the slightest of moments before shaking his head, “No, I’ve come over to have fun so, maybe we’ll swap for the night. Niall can be the sober one and I’ll be the drunk and disorderly,” Maureen laughs and Liam grins and Niall wonders what on earth is going on.

“Liam, you sure about that?” he asks with a hand on Liam’s arm. Liam’s health might be given the a-ok and he might have drunk a little with the boys when they were all out and whatever but, this sounds a little like it might be different. 

“Yes,” Liam says, pressing the word into Niall’s skin where Liam’s put his hand on the back of Niall’s. “I’m not going to go overboard, but its safe here, right?”

Niall nods because it is, even if Niall was drinking with Liam tonight, this pub is filled with people who would give him the shirt off their back if he asked - and that would most definitely be a given for Liam, too. Someone would put them in a cab or a wheelbarrow and get them home, somehow. Either that or Maureen would let them sleep it off under the pool table. Niall’s smacked his head on the wood under there a few times in the afterglow of a particularly good night at this bar. It’s Mullingar, they take after their own. And in this case, Liam is one of them by proxy.

“Good then, because I want to try those whiskey’s that you and Zayn are always going on about,” he rubs his hands together and his smile is so genuine - completely devoid of the little that was left of anything related to sad Liam and Niall hesitantly agrees.

Liam does try the whiskey. He tries all of them and by eleven he’s about three fifths into his own bottle that he may have mentioned a few times that he liked (once, twice ten times before Niall begged Maureen to just let him buy his own). Niall is having fun himself. The band are actually good and he’s got up and sung a song and played the guitar to the rousing applause from the crowd and a wolf whistle he could pick anywhere that was Liam’s. Liam gets up a little after half past, he’s smiling and looks so relaxed and free from all the weight of worry that was obvious on his shoulders when he first arrived on Niall’s doorstep. It makes that space inside Niall’s chest that he relegates to band member feelings swell and when he takes the mic after whispering something to the lads behind him, his smile sort of fades as he gets this look that Niall recognises as his “pre show game face.” 

Niall sits back in the chair he scored earlier after dancing with a few of the girls, his forehead still sticky with sweat and his hair has definitely lost it’s “artfully created mess” from earlier. Lou would not be proud. 

“I asked the lads here and they said you wouldn’t mind, and I hope you indulge a stupid Englishman but it’s New Years and I’m here with my best mate and well, I can’t not go past singing this,” his smile is shy and the pub is mostly silent which is odd but they’ve heard Niall sing before and they’ve all heard each other - hearing this other popstar on his own is something else maybe. 

“Go on lad! Nothing can be worse than our Michael singing Barbie Girl on his bucks do!” someone calls out from the back and laughter erupts with a “fooking never gonna live that down am I?” somewhere near Niall’s left. Niall just looks up at Liam and gives him the requisite band thumbs up that means many things to anyone that see’s it - but only the others know what it’s really all about.

He watches as Liam lifts the mic to his face, licking his lips before nodding to Patty on the guitar. The opening guitar riff is one all of them know and there’s a few chuckles here and there until Liam opens his mouth and well - it’s like everything else fades away. 

It should be cheesy and bloody awful that Liam’s chosen this particular band to sing. It should be even worse that he’s picked a ballad in the middle of a night of rollicking bar songs that have everyone up on their feet dancing and belting out words that may or may not be the right ones. But Niall knows what Liam’s voice is capable of. Knows how it can bring a grown man even to his knees and as he hits the high notes and finally opens his eyes and looks straight at Niall - Niall is fit to burst with pride and a little something like love. 

Niall tries not to feel like Liam is singing the chorus straight at him with some meaning other than he’s the most familiar face in the room. It’s sort of hard though because Liam’s got those deep brown eyes of his just _focused_ on Niall and with how much touching they’ve done today and today being the first time in what feels like a forever that they’ve just spent together - it’s kind of hard. It’s harder when Liam doesn’t look anywhere else but at Niall when he’s pointing the mic at the crowd - just like he does during one of their concerts - and everyone is singing back. Hearing fifty or so odd voices singing that all they want and all they need is you while the bloke you’re closer to than anyone else in your life can’t take his eyes off you is a little intimidating to say the least. Niall can only swallow and stare right back until the end where Liam winks at him and he manages a quick smile back before picking up Martin’s scotch and downing what was left of it in one go.

It’s only one drink and after that, he needs it. 

Liam doesn’t stop singing though, the band kicks it up a notch and then everyone’s on the floor and in front of the stage and Niall’s reminded of just how much presence Liam has as everyone is singing around him. There are hands in the air and it doesn’t matter that they’ve all heard bloody Bono singing about streets and their lack of names for years it’s different because it’s Liam and he’s just. He sings with such feeling and emotion and he’s jumping around the small space and hitting nearly every note and giggling when he forgets words but no one cares. Someone even gives him some sunglasses and he does a terrible impression of Bono but it’s so awful that even Niall has to laugh. It’s New Years and Niall’s surrounded by the people he loves and when Liam’s finished and everyone is near screaming he can’t help but kiss Liam on the cheek when he falls into Niall’s lap, wrapping his body tight around Niall. 

“It’s really hot in here,” Liam says as he pulls back, grabbing at Niall’s soda on the table and smashing it back. 

Niall doesn’t say anything because he’s too busy watching the way Liam’s Adam’s apple moves as he swallows and how it distorts the birthmark on his neck. It’s sort of transfixing in a way and he nearly misses Liam get up, grabbing at Niall’s hand to help him up. Niall trails behind Liam, still holding his hand in his own which is hot and slightly sweaty but Liam seems to pay it no mind. They make their way toward the back, passing the line up at the loo’s and are out the back door into the freezing night before Niall has time to wonder how exactly it is Liam seems to know where he’s going. 

It’s much colder out here than Niall would have thought, the pub having been near tropical with the fire roaring and heat from how many bodies are packed inside. He wraps his arms around his body and watches as Liam bounces around in the back alley, high on adrenaline and a rush from being on stage which Niall knows. Has seen so many times before but it feels different, more intimate now that it’s just the two of them. There’s something different about all of this. About having Liam here in his home town which only Louis and Harry have ever visited. Maybe it’s different because he has Liam to himself and he’s not ever really had that. He hangs out with Zayn a lot when he’s home - well did before Perrie became a thing. Then he hung out with the band because he was the only single one - well, the only one the public knew about anyway. Harry and Louis and the rotating mess that was their love lives were too much for Niall to be a part of apart from having a shoulder to cry on and a sofa to kip on when things got too much. But things with Liam were different. Liam had had Danielle since their X-Factor days and he had his mates in Wolverhampton - even if Andy was a bit of a dick. It wasn’t that they didn’t do things together - they did, but it usually involved at least one of the other lads or Dani. 

So this is different. 

Liam is different.

“What are you smiling at?” Liam asks and he’s much closer than Niall remembered him being - off dancing in the little snow drifts. He moves like he’s still pretending to be bloody Bono singing She Moves in Mysterious Ways mostly off key - which Niall will put down to the whiskey because Liam fucking up any song is a rare bloody thing.

“Nothin’,’ Niall says and Liam is grinning where he’s stood a foot in front of Niall, brings his hands up to cup Niall’s heated cheeks with his near frozen fingertips.

“Nooo,” Liam says, elongating the word and Niall could probably get drunk from Liam’s breath alone as it plays over his skin. “You’re smiling because of something,”

“I’m happy,” Niall answers because it’s the truth and because Liam is really endearing with the way he’s prodding at Niall’s the apple of Niall’s cheeks with his thumbs. 

“Me too,” Liam says and he laughs and closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to Niall’s. They stay like that for a moment. Just breathing and Liam lets go of Niall’s face, bracing his body up against the wall with his forearms against the brick on either side of Niall’s head. He’s close and he’s warm and Niall wonders if it would feel the same - this _safe_ if Liam did this when they were both naked. It’s a weird thought to have, considering he’s never thought about Liam like that before.

Or maybe once or twice. Liam has a great body and isn’t really afraid to show it when they went swimming in Sydney or when it was a bloody heatwave in the US and they lived at each of their hotels pools. Liam works out - on his own when they’re at home and mostly with Harry when they’re on tour. Niall joined in when they were finishing up in the US because he was tired of Paul poking fun about letting the Irish down and he wanted to look good, too. And because of how he was getting a tummy a lot like the one Louis tries to hide from all the food Niall could eat that was fried in the States. (It’s not Niall’s fault that he took “all you can eat buffet” as a challenge not an offer). So yeah, he can appreciate Liam’s form and he can appreciate even more that Liam has full lips and those soulful eyes that are sort of staring right back at Niall’s own right now. Niall licks at his lips because Liam seems to let his gaze drop down to them and Niall feels on edge. It’s as if there’s this line been drawn somewhere with his relationship with Liam and he isn’t sure which side he should be on. The tip of Liam’s nose brushes his and Niall feels the touch spread throughout his body like wildfire and it’s like he’s drunk when all he’s had is one drink. 

Then the door opens with a bang against the wall and Liam smiles before shifting back and yelling something at Sean and he’s got his arms around Niall’s best friend and Niall tries to remember how to breathe. He gets in one full breath into his lungs before Liam is back and grabbing at his hand again, dragging him to the rickety stairs that lead to the roof. 

“C’mon, Nialler! Sean said it’s nearly midnight and you can see the fireworks best from up there,” he nods at the roof and Niall follows - even though he thinks it’s fucking dangerous given how these stairs are on a good day not a bloody freezing cold night where the metal could just give at any moment. 

It holds though and they make it to the roof where someone’s set up some chairs and even a bench that looks suspiciously like it comes from Niall’s old primary school. Sean settles with this bird Niall knows he’s been after on one set and there’s Dylan with his girlfriend on the other leaving Niall and Liam the bench. Niall breathes a sigh of relief at this. Liam drunk on whiskey is a lot different and a lot harder to read than the sober Liam Niall knows how to anticipate the actions of. Liam sits close when they get to the edge of the roof where the chairs are. Sean let’s out a whoop because there’s a few minutes left of the year and it’s exciting. Niall’s always loved New Years Eve. There’s something about the magic of leaving a year behind to start a fresh when the dawn rises. All the shit, all the bad and the parts you didn’t like you can leave behind and put down to The Year That Was and focus on The Year That Is To Come. 

Liam puts his arm around Niall and Niall returns the favor, it’s bloody freezing up here and smokey from the chimney that’s got white curling up and out of either side of it’s little tin hat. There’s noise from down below - a few other idiots out in the cold street and he can see across the way others are out on their roofs, too. Sean knocks a bottle of what looks suspiciously like the moonshine he knows Sean’s Grandad makes and he figures fuck it, it’s nearly the end of the night, one little (extra) drink won’t hurt him. He slugs it back and offers it to Liam who shakes his head and looks back out across the skyline. Niall hands the bottle back to Sean who grips his forearm tight with a drunken, yet serious, “I love you, mate. Never forget that,’ and Niall nods and tells him to stop being a soppy cunt with a laugh before LIam’s tugging him back, his lips close to Niall’s ear.

“It’s about to start,”

Niall nods and ignores the way he gets a shiver through his body, hair standing on end as Liam’s words are a hot breath against his icy cold skin. Far too close and not close enough and maybe that moonshine was really strong because he just leans in to Liam’s side even further. Liam doesn’t say anything, just rubs his hand roughly over the top of Niall’s arm trying to spread warmth into Niall’s near frozen bones most likely. Niall’s sure what’s going on between him and Liam. He wants to ask what it was that nearly happened down stairs in the alley and he wants to ask why, really, that Liam came over at all. He wants to but he can’t because Dylan’s calling out that it’s time and then they’re all counting down together. Liam turns so he’s caught Niall’s eye and he’s smiling, so happy and carefree that Niall can’t help to grin himself as they get louder and louder the closer they get to one. 

Then red fills the night sky as the centre of town explodes with fireworks and it’s kind of beautiful. Even more so with the way it’s reflected in Liam’s eyes that are still staring into Niall’s.

“Happy New Year, Niall,” Liam says or whispers because Niall feels like all he can hear is Liam and all he can see is Liam even with the noise from the pub below and the fireworks booming. 

“Happy New Year, Li,” he answers and then Liam smiles again, all real happy and Niall just wants to kiss him. Wants to kiss him because he’s happy and wants to kiss him because Liam hasn’t looked like this in what feels like a forever so he does.

He does and Liam kisses right back with his fingers sliding up into Niall’s hair and Niall somehow manages to slip his leg over Liam’s and then he’s straddling Liam’s thighs. Niall’s got his hands dipped into the space between Liam’s sweater and his shirt and he can feel Liam’s back muscles shift as Liam’s hands fit over Niall’s arse, holding him close. They kiss and kiss and Niall doesn’t _think_ about anything other than how soft Liam’s lips are - even in the cold and how warm his tongue is and how _good_ Liam is with it. They kiss and Niall grips hard when Liam starts to laugh and it stops Niall, pulling away a little with the sharp sound of it vibrating against his mouth. 

“This is so not how I pictured ringing in the new year,” Liam says and Niall stiffens because it’s not often he puts himself out there like this. He likes to maintain the status quo and usualy waits for people to come to him before he even begins to figure out that someone likes him for more than just a chat or a game of footy with the lads. He doesn’t think that Liam fits into any of those categories - he rather hoped Liam was something different. Something a little more than just a drunken grope and something to apologise about in the morning. Niall’s been there and done that and it might still hurt sometimes when Josh looks at him but that’s neither here nor there. He’s done the casual shag, too, but is pretty sure the next time he and Justin or Demi are in the same vicinity he won’t be doing it again. He’s not had a girlfriend since he left for X Factor but he’s had girls and he’s had boys but those have been few and far between because it’s hard to trust strangers when you are who you are. 

But this is Liam and Liam is supposed to know all this. Hearing Liam say those words just takes all the warmth from what they were doing, and what they might be doing later just disappear like smoke from all the fireworks that's blowing up into the night sky now. 

It must show on his face, the way he’s feeling because Liam’s changes too.

“No, not like that. I just mean, I thought I would have talked to you first, maybe drinking was a bad idea. I don’t. I’m not sorry, Niall.” he says and he looks so earnest that Niall wants to believe him.

He still doesn’t say anything as Sean and his bird get up with a giggle, wishing them a good night and with a wink and some extremely inappropriate thrusting behind her back, make their way back down stairs. Dylan’s next and then they’re alone and Niall still hasn’t said a word.

“Niall,” Liam starts and his hands are at Niall’s waist now which he only remembers when he tries to shift off and Liam holds him still. “I don’t regret kissing you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Niall shakes his head, because you can’t regret what’s happened, only what might in his eyes. And this, whatever it was that might of been a something now feels like a nothing. Like an experiment and Niall won’t be that.

Not again.

“It’s fine, Li. I was here and it’s New Years. It’s not like we haven’t kissed before so you can, you can let me go,” Niall gets all this out without looking at Liam, just stares at the button that’s missing from the top of Liam's shirt and for a second he wonders if it was always gone or disappeared somewhere tonight. 

“Yes, but that’s not. That’s. Nialler, will you sit still?” He squeezes again on Niall’s hips and Niall does actually stop. “Look at me please, I really don’t like talking to the top of your head,”

“The top of my head is lovely I’ll have you know,” Niall says and does look at Liam then, who’s lips turn up a little and he looks - well he’s not Sad Liam and he’s not Drunk Liam and there’s a little bit of Concerned Liam there and - when did he start cataloguing every single face of Liam Payne?

“What I meant is, I loved spending time with you, that’s why I came here. Do you know that saying about how the person you spend New Years with is the person you’ll spend the entire year ahead with?”

Niall nods, because it’s not entirely the right wording but he understands the gist of it. He understands - well thinks he understands what Liam is trying to say and maybe it’s better if he takes what’s happening at face value.

“You’re a pretty good kisser,” he says instead of any of the other words that are waiting at the back of his throat to spill out. Things like “is this going to mean more tomorrow?” and “am I just being a replacement for things we both want but don’t have?” and “I actually really like kissing you and touching you and would you mind if we did it a lot more?”

Liam ducks his head down and laughs, “You’re not so bad yourself. Could use some work though,” he says and stares back up at Niall through his thick eyelashes and Niall hits him in the arm.

“Bloody do not!” 

“Yeah, you do,” Liam says, scrunching his nose a little, “And you’re lap dance skills are utterly weak,” 

Niall hits him on both sides then and a gust of wind bustles up over the roofline they both curse and and Niall leans in and presses his lips to the bow of Liam’s. Liam tilts his head a little and his hands are tight over the Niall’s hips again as their mouths shift and fit together better and yeah, Niall likes doing this. Doing this with Liam.

“Weak? I’ll show you weak,” he murmurs against Liam’s lips because the kissing thing is really lovely and it’s making him forget that there should be reasons and decisions here - instead just focusing on how it’s warming his blood and making him feel lots more than he probably should when it comes to Liam.

Another gust of wind has them both shivering and Niall stands, pulling Liam up because it’s _far_ too cold up here to see where this kissing thing will lead. He has a perfectly good bed at home and he knows that his family won’t actually come home tonight - well, not till early tomorrow - or today. There’s lots of things he can decide if he likes doing with Liam, if Liam wants to do them with him. Kissing is just the start. 

It is a new year after all.


End file.
